Fire at the Port
by TomtomtheWriter
Summary: A shipment of fireworks arrives at Knapford Port, but the actions of Diesel 10 almost cause disaster.
It was an early morning at Knapford Port, and Toby was bringing in a train of stone trucks when he was flagged down. "What's going on here?" his driver asked.

"A shipment of fireworks is arriving this evening for the show next week," explained the flagman, "and we've been setting up boundaries to make sure nothing goes wrong. You may proceed, but be careful once nighttime comes around."

Toby steamed slowly under the bridge. He looked and saw men taping off part of the dock, and large floodlights being erected. Back at the station, the engines were all talking about the firework show.

"I wonder who's going to collect the fireworks," pondered Henry.

"It'll probably be a splendid engine like me," boasted James.

"Nonsense!" laughed Thomas. "It's arriving at my port, so one of the engines on my branch line will collect it."

Unknown to the engines, Diesel 10 had been listening in on their conversation. He snickered and oiled away, heading for the Dieselworks. When he arrived, he went straight inside the main shed. Norman was on the hoist, and a middle-aged woman was standing underneath him, inspecting his undercarriage.

"Ms. Andrews, ma'am," the big diesel called, rolling onto the turntable, "I must ask you something."

"Can it wait, 10? I'm busy," replied Ms. Andrews. "Norman's broken down again, and I'm trying to find what's wrong with him."

"It has to do with my plan, ma'am. There's a shipment of fireworks arriving at Knapford this evening, and I was thinking that-"

"Knapford is on the other side of the island, so it's not my problem."

"Please, ma'am," pleaded Diesel 10. "I'll shunt for the rest of the month if you help me."

This finally caused Ms. Andrews to look back. "Will you?" she asked, a small grin appearing on her face. "Alright then, 10, let me get my tools."

Evening came, and the sky was already getting dark. Thomas had brought some vans to the port, so the workmen could load the fireworks once they were unloaded. Belle was standing nearby, in case something caught fire when unloading the fireworks. The ship carrying the fireworks was seen in the distance. Thomas was about to move over to the water tower, when Samson whistled in, pulling some fuel tankers behind him.

"Samson!" shouted Belle. "What are you doing here with those tankers?"

"Well, the Fat Controller asked me to bring these tankers here tonight, Belle," explained Samson. "Don't worry, I'll put them out of they way."

"He's lucky he didn't arrive when the fireworks were being unloaded," Thomas muttered, "otherwise he could have turned the port into a crater."

Further away, Diesel 10 rolled to a stop near the bridge. Ms. Andrews climbed out of his cab, a bazooka held under her right arm. She stooped down behind some bushes, then began loading. "Why couldn't we just use my idea?"

"Your idea involved charging in like a madman," countered Ms. Andrews. "And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that you must always keep a low profile. Just let me take care of this, 10."

Back at the port, the boat carrying the fireworks had arrived, and the men were taking great care not to drop any of the crates. Samson was about to move his tankers, but was told by the port manager not to move until the first van had been loaded. But just as the first van had been loaded, a loud blast sounded, a fiery plume emerging from the boat.

"Fizzling fireboxes!" Samson cried, jolting away from his tankers. "That boat is full of fireworks! If the flames reach my tankers, it'll blow us all sky high!"

"Samson, get back here!" called Thomas.

"No way, I'm going for cover!" And Samson disappeared on the other side of the bridge.

Belle looked from her siding. "We need to get those tankers out of the way," she murmured. Then she rang her bell loudly. "Thomas, move those tankers in front of me!"

So Thomas changed tracks and buffered up to the tankers. He shunted them backwards until they were in front of Belle. Once he moved out of the way, the big tank engine shoved them forward, and out of the port. She then looked back at the cowering Samson.

"Come on, Samson, we need you too. That first explosion knocked down the phone lines, so we can't call for Flynn to assist us."

"Alright," sighed Samson, "I suppose I must."

And so the two steamed back over. Hoses were placed in Thomas and Samson's water tanks, and together they helped Belle to fight the flames. They worked hard, but they were unable to stop the boat from burning.

"Nothing we do is working!" called Thomas.

Belle was worried. She knew they were doing their best, but their best wouldn't be enough to stop the fire. "There's nothing more we can do! Get out of here as fast as you can!" she ordered.

And the three engines hurried out of the port, just as the boat was engulfed by an inferno, which destroyed part of the dock. The three engines stayed there until morning, when the Fat Controller arrived on Toby. He looked over the ruins of Knapford Port and sighed. Belle felt nervous. What would Fat Controller say, knowing that she was unable to stop the fire? Thomas and Samson knew their friend was worried.

"Please, sir," Thomas started, "it wasn't Belle's fault. The fire was too big for us. And it was her idea to get rid of the tankers."

"Indeed," added Samson. "Neither of us were as brave as Belle was."

The Fat Controller turned back to Belle. "Was she? Well, I must congratulate you, Belle."

"But, sir, if I could stop the fire-"

"Enough, Belle," interrupted the Fat Controller. "Unfortunately, you can't snuff out every flame. The port will need rebuilding, yes, but if it weren't for your quick thinking, then the damage would be even more severe. You are a really useful and brave engine, Belle." This made Belle feel better. "Now fill up on water, you lot, and go straight to the wash-down."

"Yes sir!" the three engines replied, hurrying away.

Back at the Dieselworks, Ms. Andrews was speaking with BoCo when she saw the Fat Controller's car pull up. He stepped out and walked over to her.

"Good morning, Ms. Andrews," he greeted. "I've come to speak to you about one of my diesels."

"Don't worry, sir, Norman's overhaul will begin first thing tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, but I wasn't talking about Norman."

Ms. Andrews gulped. "I see," she replied slowly. "Alright, BoCo, off you go to work, please." She waited until the large diesel and his train were out of sight before speaking again. "What has 10 done this time?"

"The Crosby stationmaster says he saw Diesel 10 rushing down the line towards Vicarstown, almost a minute after the fire at Knapford Port started. Would you know know anything about this?"

"No, sir, I wouldn't. I'll ask him if he had anything to do with it, and if he has, I'll punish him accordingly."

"That's good to hear," said the Fat Controller, and he walked back to his car.

Meanwhile, Diesel 10 was shunting, like he had promised to, when Ms. Andrews walked up to him. "Yes, ma'am?" he asked.

"Sir Topham Hatt just came by," she said, crossing her arms at the big diesel. "He says you were seen racing down the mainline just after the fire started."

"Pah! What does Fat Hatt know? He's not a part of my plan-"

"I don't care about your plan! All I care about is not going back to prison. I can't do that if they discover I was behind an explosion."

"Well, what do you expect me to do about that?" Diesel 10 snapped.

Ms. Andrews took a deep breath. "I expect you, Diesel 10, to go to your shed immediately. You can stay there until further notice."

Diesel 10 sighed, and oiled away to his shed. "Make the most of your lives, steam engines," he muttered to himself, "because they won't last much longer."


End file.
